Harry Potter And The Drarry Clichés
by Living.Like.A.Boss
Summary: All the most popular Drarry tropes compiled in one place. Including Veela, rentboy, jealousy and more! Sort of a prompt and fill. Most recent cliché - Accidental Pregnancy
1. Veela

**Harry Potter And The Drarry Clichés**

**Summary: **All the most popular Drarry tropes compiled in one place. Including Veela, rentboy, jealousy and more!

**Warnings: **Crack

**Author's Note: **Clichés are used in almost every fic. Now here is a stereotypical compilation of all of them.

* * *

_Cliché One—Veela_

Harry sat in Dumbledore's office—actually Professor McGonagall's office now but Harry couldn't get out of the habit of calling it Dumbledore's—squirming anxiously in his seat. What exactly did Headmistress McGonagall want from him now? Wasn't it enough that Harry had defeated Voldemort just five months prior?

Harry had returned back to Hogwarts for his Eighth Year, an extra year designated to the previous year's Seventh so that they could catch up on their studies and take their NEWTs, reluctantly. Honestly, he could have immediately gone to Auror training if he so desired—Kingsley had pronounced that all students who fought in the Battle of Hogwarts would be granted a spot regardless if they had the proper credentials or not—and Harry probably would have if not for the fact that he no longer wished to be an Auror. After the war and spending about a year on the run to find a way to defeat Voldemort, after all the deaths he had seen—no. Harry didn't think he could bear being an Auror after all that.

So here he was. But Headmistress McGonagall had sent for him and now, as every second ticked away with no one in sight, Harry was getting nervous.

"It had to be Potter, of course it had to be," the arrogant voice broke the unsettling silence.

"Please refrain from antagonizing, Mr Malfoy. He is after all your son's—" Harry couldn't hear the rest of the sentence but there was already a bad feeling bubbling in the pit of his stomach. This could not be good. Especially not with Malfoys involved.

The door to the office opened and in came Headmistress McGonagall—gosh Harry could never get used to calling her that—followed by Draco Malfoy and Lucius Malfoy.

Harry shivered when Draco's eyes landed on him. There was a glint in his eyes that looked hungry—_predatory._ And if that wasn't unsettling then Harry didn't what was.

Malfoy and him hadn't parted on good or hostile terms. The last time Harry had conversed with him was on the day of the Malfoy trials, when Malfoy had actually _thanked_ Harry for defending him. And after that, they had an unsaid, tentative truce since the start of Eighth Year.

_It seems the truce might be ending, _Harry thought sorrowfully. The way they were all gathered in the Headmaster's office, and the serious looks on their faces were evidence to the fact.

Harry didn't want to beat around the bush. He asked as soon as all of them took notice of him, "What's going on, Professor McGonagall?"

He was answered as bluntly. "Mr Potter. Do you know anything about Veela?"

There seemed to be sadness behind her voice though the source of it, Harry couldn't place. Harry nodded his head.

"I learnt about them in Fourth Year," he confirmed. "They're some sort of bird-like creatures, aren't they?"

McGonagall bit her lip in a gesture that was quite out of place on her usually stern face. "That's the tip of it, yes. But there's more.

"I'll be blunt with you, Harry. Malfoy here," she pointed to Draco, whose staring hasn't ceased and was causing Harry to feel more and more uncomfortable, "is a Veela. And you're his mate."

_Oh damn. That wasn't what I was expecting. _

"What?!" Harry exclaimed. "Are there even such things as male Veela in the first place? And since when did Veela have mates."

"Well, Potter," Lucius Malfoy spoke with contempt. "There are certainly such things as male Veela. And they _do _have mates. The problem is that my son's mate seems to be you."

"Can't he just choose someone else?" Harry wondered aloud, determinedly looking away from Draco's intent gaze. "I mean, why not? Veela have _got _to be able to choose their own mates."

At that, a loud screech came out of Malfoy, and Harry's hands flew instinctively to his ears.

"What the hell, Malfoy?" Harry complained. "What was that for?"

"Mate! Mine." Malfoy cried out and he slammed into Harry in a blink of his eye, pulling him in such a tight embrace that Harry was surprised he could still breathe.

"Let go of me!"

Harry looked pleadingly at the other two people in the room, asking them mentally to help him. Lucius just had a pleased look on his face while Professor McGonagall sighed.

"_You _are his mate, Mr Potter. There's no other choice. He can't choose anyone else. If you reject him then I fear that he would die."

The word _die _echoed in Harry's mind and he halted in his struggling.

_Oh no._

"There's no other choice?" Harry whispered resignedly, his shoulders slack. Draco was now sniffing his hair—Merlin, did being a Veela deprive you of all humanity or something? Malfoy was acting like a feral animal—and Harry knew he couldn't possibly reject Malfoy and leave him to die, even if he didn't particularly like the prat.

_Stupid hero complex, _he cursed in his mind.

"Fine," Harry stated.

"If it makes things any better," McGonagall added, "Veela and their mates share special bonds. Your love would be triumphant in the end."

_What love? _Harry thought miserably. _There's no love between Malfoy and me._

"Whatever."

"Great!" Lucius clapped his hand in a manner that Harry thought was most unbefitting of a Malfoy of any kind. "The wedding shall be held tomorrow, you shall seal your bond after that and by next year you shall bear me my grandchildren."

Harry was momentarily stunned by the news—how the bloody hell could males get pregnant—before going back to not caring. Harry didn't want to care anymore.

"Whatever," he repeated.

"My mate," Draco said in a possessive tone. "You're mine now."

Usually Harry would hate someone thinking of him as some sort of possession but now, those words seemed to calm him in a way.

_Maybe having a Veela as a mate and having someone love me unconditionally won't be too bad after all. I've always wanted a family that would love me anyway. Why not the Malfoys? I'll just disregard all the previous years of them either tormenting me or trying to end my life. Shouldn't be too hard._

"Fine." Harry said, relaxing in Draco's hold.

An amusing thought then popped into his brain.

_Oh Ron is going to have a cow when he hears about this._


	2. Jealousy

_Cliché Two—Jealousy_

_Oh no. That guy isn't touching _my _Harry, is he? He is! The nerve of that son of a bitc—_

Draco leapt off his seat at the Slytherin table and stalked angrily towards the Gryffindor table, where an insignificant Hufflepuff was flirting with _his _Harry. As he neared the table, he could make out some of the words that were being said.

"…_pretty thing…go to Hogsmeade…_good _time."_

Draco was going to punch that Hufflepuff so hard that no _episkey_ would be able to heal that already horrendous face.

"What do we have here?" Draco drawled, his anger simmering just below the surface. He wouldn't give that stupid Hufflepuff the pleasure of seeing him upset. "A Hufflepuff thinks he's good enough to date the Boy-Who-Lived, hm?"

Draco noticed Harry's face burn a bit at his words but he ignored it for now. He would deal with Harry's embarrassment and self-esteem issues later on. At the moment he had a Hufflepuff to put into place.

"What do you want, _Malfoy?" _the Hufflepuff sneered, making himself look thrice as unattractive. "Not enough Death Eater things for you to do—"

"Justin!" Harry exclaimed, appearing enraged by his words. A part of Draco was glad that Harry was standing up for him and berating _Justin _but another part of him hated it that Harry just called the Hufflepuff by his first name. "Malfoy is _not _a Death Eater. His family was exonerated, remember?"

Draco's heart ached a little when Harry used his last name, although he knew that it was his own fault. Harry was just acting so that Draco could keep their relationship secret. Harry, the courageous—not to mention, reckless—Gryffindor he was, had wanted to announce it to the school that they were a couple but Draco had been a little more cautious. He had been afraid. His family was still out of favor in the Wizarding World—although his father was no doubt making plans to slither back to the top—and what would happen if word got out that a former Death Eater was dating the Boy-Who-Lived? Chaos, that's what. And Draco, calculating Slytherin that he was, hadn't wanted to risk it.

But now, Draco felt the irrational urge to shout to everyone that Harry Potter was _his, _goddamit. And no one was going to ever take him away.

"What does any of this have anything to do with him, anyway? He was the one who provoked me first!" the Hufflepuff's words—Draco refused to use his first name, a sign of trust and acknowledgement, to address him—snapped Draco out of his reverie. He then ignored Draco entirely and turned back to Harry, once again plastering that awful smile of his back onto his pimply face. "So Harry, what do you say? Want to go on that date with me?"

Before Harry could answer, Draco exploded. In a moment of impulse, he cast a _Sonorus _Charm on his throat and started speaking.

"Listen here everyone. Harry Potter is _mine," _he glared daggers at the Hufflepuff as he stressed on the word 'mine'. "If _any _of you have a problem with that then deal with it. Or I'll cast every Dark Curse I know on your pitiable arse."

He canceled the charm and planted a heated kiss onto Harry's petal soft lips. Now, because of his rash decision, he would be able to claim those lips whenever he wanted without fear.

The majority of the students in the Great Hall were staring at them with their mouths agape, protests starting. However, Draco couldn't give a rat's arse as Harry whispered on his lips, "I love you. I'm glad you've finally embraced your Gryffindor side."

Draco wrinkled his nose in disgust at the mention of him being a _Gryffindor,_ but his mind was soon wiped blank as those lips moved against his once again.

_Being Gryffindor-ish isn't half-bad._

* * *

**If anyone would like to request a particular cliché, feel free to leave it in a review. **


	3. Friends First

_Cliché Three—Friends First (or Slytherin Harry)_

Harry and Draco sat near the Great Lake watching the Giant Squid wave at a couple of First Years. Voldemort was finally defeated and Draco couldn't be happier.

Returning to Hogwarts for their Eighth Year had been a no-brainer decision for Draco once he realised that his best friend was returning as well.

A small smile graced Draco's face as he thought of Harry and turned discreetly to look fondly at the dark-haired Slytherin. Harry's eyes were closed, a slight smile was on his face, and he looked beautiful. Peaceful. Something Draco knew Harry rarely felt before, when the war raged on.

Draco closed his eyes as well as he laid back onto the soft grass, his first meeting with Harry coming to mind. The memory played out in front of him like a brilliant cinematic production.

* * *

_Draco winced as the needle pricked him once again. He really hated getting his clothes fitted. _

_The bell signifying someone entering the store jingled and Draco had to resist the urge to turn and look. That would just result in more pinching pain._

_Thank goodness for Draco, the new customer—a thin boy around his age—was positioned next to him. Draco tilted his head slightly to the side to get a better view of the boy. The boy was a few inches shorter than Draco with unruly black hair and old-fashion looking circular glasses. Massive clothing that looked ready to slip off at any given moment hid his slim frame. He didn't look like someone whom Draco would usually associate with but something drew Draco to the boy and compelled him to greet, "Hullo."_

_The conversation started rather tentatively at first, with the boy only answering in monosyllables but it soon grew to be rather interesting. Something about the boy just made Draco leave all his pureblood training behind and he started acting like how he wanted to act, no restrains barring him._

_Draco soon found out that the boy was attending Hogwarts with him, had absolutely no knowledge of the Wizarding World and was absolutely adorable with his ignorance. It made Draco want to teach him all the wonders of the Wizarding World when he should be scowling at the boy for being Muggleborn. _

_Before Draco could ask for the boy's name, the boy was done and had to go. They said their reluctant goodbyes, promising each other that they would meet at Hogwarts, and Draco knew deep in his bones that this was the start of something magical._

* * *

Draco couldn't help but be thankful that he had acted as himself at their first meeting. He had found out, once he and Harry were reacquainted in the Hogwarts Express, that Harry didn't take kindly to people he thought as mean and prejudiced. It was good for him that Harry already liked him enough to want to stay friends after he realised that Draco was a bit of a snarky prat. Though that didn't change much over the years.

Being friends—_best _friends—with Harry was never boring. Every year was a new adventure of some kind to foil Voldemort's evil plans. And although Draco was never the sort to find adventure very appealing, he quite liked being the brains behind the operation.

He would be the one helping Harry with the intellectual side of things—because, as much as Draco loved Harry, he had to admit Harry could be a little bit slow at times—steering them in the right direction whenever needed. Of course, Draco also had to deal with the action part of it. No matter how much Draco despised the deadly portion of their adventures, he would always be at Harry's side when he faced Voldemort. There was no way Draco would ever leave Harry to fight alone. He had to protect Harry from his reckless tendency to rush headfirst into dangerous situations, after all.

In a nutshell, they made quite the dynamic duo.

And as the years passed, Draco found himself having less than platonic feelings for Harry. It worried him and he tried to squish them at first. But now, Draco was tired of denying his feelings. He loved Harry Potter and there was really nothing anybody could do about it.

A raindrop dropped onto his nose, pulling him away from his thoughts. He opened his eyes to see a hand in his face.

"Time to go, Draco. Wakey wakey," Harry said with a smirk on his face, hand outstretched to pull Draco up from the ground.

"Ha ha Harry, very funny." Draco took the proffered hand and was hoisted onto his feet. The rain was coming down quickly now and Harry looked perfect standing across from him, soaked hair flattened down onto his head, captivating green eyes shining like jewels behind the wet glasses.

Without thinking, Draco leaned down and pressed his lips against Harry's. For quite awhile, Harry didn't move and Draco started to pull back, stung by the obvious rejection. Then, Harry made a whining sound at the back of his throat and pulled Draco back down until their lips touched once again.

_Kissing in the rain, _Draco thought giddily, _how cliché._

They were forced to end their kiss, however, when the downpour grew heavier still. Harry's arms were still clutching onto Draco's neck as he breathed, "Never thought you felt the same way. Always wanted to do that."

"Really?" Draco asked, hope blossoming in his chest.

Harry's eyes shimmered as he nodded, "Most definitely."

"Well then, would you like to be my—" Draco was interrupted by a clap of thunder. Taking that as a signal to leave, Harry unwrapped himself from Draco before winking and taking off in the direction of the castle.

"Race ya back!" Harry shouted, laughing as he ran.

"You little twat!" Draco yelled, taking off after him. A grin was plastered onto his face. Harry was still so childish sometimes, something Draco loved about him.

Once they were back inside—robes dripping onto the dry floor—Draco panted out, "So…would you like to be my boyfriend?"

"Oh yes," Harry replied, pouncing onto Draco.

And they were kissing once again.

* * *

**Cliche suggested by Lilyth369, although I might have gone off topic a little. **

**If anyone would like to request a particular cliché, feel free to leave it in a review.**


	4. Rentboy

**Warning: **Rating M for this chapter because of sexual content. If you feel uncomfortable with that, feel free to skip this particular cliché.

_Cliché Four—Rentboy_

_If only they could see me now, _Harry thought bitterly as one of his regulars pounded harshly into him, the rough handling sending a thrill up Harry's spine. It seemed that was the only thing these days to make Harry _feel _was this—fucking, being fucked like a whore.

Harry closed his eyes as he moaned loudly, his hands scratching the back of the nameless man's back, probably breaking the skin a little in the process, as he felt the warmth of semen spilling into him.

Harry didn't come. He wasn't doing this to feel pleasure, after all. He was doing this to regain his ability to feel. The only person he came with these days was—

"Thanks for the fuck, whore," the man said.

Harry did not move afterwards as the man pulled out of him, left his fee on the bedside table, put on his clothes, and left. The brilliant, yet fleeting, feeling of being alive again was addicting. But it always stayed for a brief moment of time before it left, leaving Harry as an empty shell once again.

_If only they could see me now, _Harry thought once again. _The Whore-Who-Lived. _He could see the headlines now.

However, Harry had taken measures to ensure that that would never happen. He did all of his 'illicit deed' in the Muggle world and everyone of his customers, ranging from men in denial of their sexuality to men sneaking behind their wives' backs, were all Muggle. Well…with one exception.

No one in the Wizarding World—including Ron and Hermione, _especially _them—would ever find out about this. Well…except for…

There was a loud knock at the door and Harry cursed under his breath. He looked at himself, still come stained and sweaty, bed sheets wrinkled and definitely not presentable. He might be a whore but he had _standards._ And to add to the misfortune, his next customer was Malfoy. Fan-_freaking_-tastic. He should have known better than to drift off after a session. Now, he would pay. Malfoy always got pissed whenever Harry appeared as anything less than perfect. Malfoy principle and all that spaz Harry couldn't bother to know.

_But you know you like it, _his sneaky inner voice hissed. _Draco always gives it real good, doesn't he?_

Harry shook his head, trying to ignore that annoying little voice that referred to Malfoy with his first name. He jumped off the bed, wincing a bit when his sore arse was exposed to the cool air, and cast a quick _Scourgify _on the bed and his body. His skin stung a little but at least all traces of come was gone. Usually, Harry would never think about using magic in a Muggle area lest someone somehow traces his magic but this was a desperate situation.

A part of Harry always wanted to look presentable for Draco. It was a part of him Harry desperately wanted to ignore. That part of him called Malfoy _Draco, _after all. It was unreasonable at the best of times and impossible at the worst.

But there was one thing that all of Harry could agree on: Draco Malfoy made him feel alive. The terrible thing was—_Harry_ wasn't sure he made _Malfoy_ feel alive. And he refused to bare himself, only to be left rejected and scorned.

_It's better to see him for a fuck thrice every week than to never see him again._

The knocking started again, impatient now. Harry sighed and walked towards the door, settling back into the row of seductive temptress. He fluttered his eyelashes flirtatiously, looking up at Dra—Malfoy with a heated gaze, ignoring the cool air brushing against his naked skin.

He lowered his voice to a sultry tone and said saucily, "Hello Mr. Malfoy. I'm _so _sorry for making you wait for so long."

Malfoy bared his teeth, his eyes a hard steely grey and Harry had to restrain himself from groaning. He was so getting punished tonight. And he couldn't wait to feel Draco's cock deep within him.

As quick as lightning, Malfoy lifted Harry onto his shoulders in one swift movement, using his leg to kick the door close and proceeded to carry Harry into the bedroom where he received all his customers.

_It's not the time to think about your other clients. Just forget and enjoy the moment._

Malfoy dumped Harry onto the bed and used his hands to spread Harry's legs wide. His grey eyes glided appreciative over Harry's form before he discarded his own clothes and straddled Harry's hips.

Harry expected the rough handling and spankings to begin then, only to be surprised when Malfoy slender fingers gently traced a bruise on Harry's torso.

_Shit! _Harry panicked. _I forgot to heal my injuries._

"I didn't leave that there," Malfoy whispered. He pressured down on it, forcing a pained moan from Harry. He stared at Harry's wrists and neck, appearing as if he was noticing the marks for the first time. "I didn't leave those either."

Malfoy's looked up from the bruises to stare intensely into Harry's fearful green orbs, as if demanding an explanation.

Harry probably should have said something to appease Malfoy but he was just so tired of his apathy and unrecognized feelings that he snapped, "Don't look at me like that. You _know_ you're not my only customer."

Harry watched as Malfoy's adam apple bobbed and continued returning Malfoy's gaze with a defiant one.

"I know," Malfoy said. "But I don't like looking at the evidence."

"Then get rid of it!" Harry cried out, frustrated out of his mind. Sometimes Malfoy acted as if he actually _cared _about Harry, that he might actually want Harry for himself. But those times meant nothing, not when Malfoy continued fucking Harry without ever mentioning or voicing argument to Harry's service of other men.

Malfoy didn't say a word, reaching silently for his hawthorn wand and casted a non-verbal healing charm. Harry saw his own blue-black skin turn back to its natural pale and sighed in relief. Now Malfoy could just get over it and fuck him as planned.

But he didn't. Instead, he mumbled, "All your other clients treat you roughly. I'm not different.

"That's unacceptable. I want to be _special._" Then Malfoy did the worst thing Harry could ever think to do. He started _making love_ to Harry. Or at least what Harry considered 'making love'. He doubted any _love _was involved on Malfoy's side.

Malfoy muttered an incantation and Harry squealed as two lubed fingers entered him, stroking his inner walls gently.

_No! _Harry thought. This was all wrong. Malfoy wasn't supposed to prepare him. Or if he did, Malfoy should shove the fingers in as brutally as he could. He shouldn't be…he shouldn't be _caressing _him. He shouldn't be making Harry believe that he cared.

"Yes," Malfoy breathed. "No one has ever done this before, have they? No one has ever taken care of you.

"_I _want to take care of you."

Malfoy had so far stuffed three fingers into Harry's hole, causing Harry to groan at the insufficient stretch. He _needed _Draco inside of him.

Harry had decided to ignore Malfoy's words and just let himself get swept away in the pleasurable sensations.

"_Please!" _Harry pleaded, and he didn't need to look to know that Draco had a smug grin on his face. "Please just fuck me!"

Malfoy chuckled, pulling out his fingers and pushing his hard cock in to fill the space.

"Yes!" Harry yelled as Malfoy yanked his legs over his shoulders, entering Harry deeper and deeper. "Yes!"

"You enjoy this, don't you? No one else can make you feel like I do," Malfoy purred as he began moving out and in and out and in—

"Yes, yes, _yes!" _Harry whimpered. "Fuck me! Harder!"

"Such a cute little slut," Draco praised, following Harry's commands to move harder. "_My _little slut."

"Yes!" Harry cried out as he came onto his own chest, his contracting anal muscles drawing out Draco's orgasm along with him.

"Oh, yes!" Draco screamed as he came deep into Harry.

Draco pulled out, watching intently as his come dripped out from Harry's abused rim. He laid Harry's feet back down onto the mattress before laying his own sated form next to Harry's smaller frame.

Harry yelped in surprise as he felt Draco's arms wrapped around his waist, his soft cock nestling in between the crease of Harry's arsecheeks. Was he _spooning _Harry?

"What are you _doing?_" Harry demanded to know, squirming in Draco's—and when had he started calling Malfoy _Draco? —_ grasp. "You're supposed to leave now. My next," Harry swallowed a bit before continuing, "customer will be arriving soon."

"No," Draco breathed into his ear. "You have _no more _customers. Not anymore. You are _mine."_

"B-but—"

"Don't you get it _Harry_?" Draco drew out Harry's name as he tightened his grip. "You are _never _going to let another man fuck you ever again. You. Are. _Mine."_

"I c-cant…" Harry tried to protest, only to be stopped in the process when Draco nibbled his earlobe.

"Yes you can." Draco said with finality. "You want me. I _know _you do. And I want you. _Exclusively."_

Harry's heart skipped a beat when he heard that. Draco wanted him? Honestly _wanted _him, and not as just a sex toy?

His brain was racing, his veins flowing with adrenaline. Harry felt so _alive_.

As if reading Harry's thoughts, Draco said, "Yes. I _want _you. Only you."

His voice went down an octave. "Only ever you."

He planted a soft kiss in the middle of Harry's shoulder blades. "Please only want me too."

Harry nodded slowly. Every part of him felt as if it had been set on flames. He finally understood. He didn't need all those other men. Because the truth was…

He only ever needed Draco to feel alive.

* * *

**Cliche suggested by Raven in Flight.**

**If anyone would like to request a particular cliché, feel free to leave it in a review.**


	5. Ron Finds Out

_Cliché Five—Ron Finds Out_

Ron was a lot of things. He was hot-tempered, he could admit it, and he was sometimes lacking in empathy, as his girlfriend liked to comment whenever he said something insensitive. But Ron never thought of himself as _cruel. _Though at that time, he had believed that anybody would have reacted the same way as he did if they were in a similar situation, thus justifying himself.

He had just been minding his own business, innocently entering his dorm when he was witness to the most horrifying sight he had seen _ever. _Worse than imagining Harry getting it on with his sister, even worse than Voldemort's noseless face.

Harry. Malfoy. _Naked. _In_ bed._

Who wouldn't have had a negative reaction to that?

Granted, Ron had spouted some things he utterly regretted saying and would probably carry on his conscience for the rest of his life. He shouldn't have called Harry a fag. Shouldn't have called him bloody shift-lifter that never deserved Ginny.

_I can't believe you left my sister for Malfoy! Disgusting pouf! _His words from before echoed through his mind now and it filled him with remorse.

He honestly had nothing against queer people—though it would take awhile to get used to the fact that his best mate was gay (_If he even still wants to stay friends with you after what you said, _a voice hissed in his mind, causing Ron to wince a little)—and Ginny had long since moved on and was quite happy dating Blaise Zabini.

_Which makes you more of a hypocrite. You screamed at Harry for dating a Slytherin and accused said Slytherin of having cast the Imperius Curse on Harry. You never did so when Ginny introduced her new boyfriend. _

Ron closed his eyes tightly. When he had rushed to Hermione, terrified and needing her help to apologise to Harry for the crude words he had said, he had been met by disbelief and anger.

"I can't believe you said that to Harry," Hermione had said, shaking her head lightly. "You're one of his best friends and you've probably confirmed his fears of rejection. I can't help you with this Ron. You have to make up with him by yourself."

So his was alone in this now. Brilliant.

All the things Ron had said were said in a moment if pique, with his mind struggling to comprehend what was happening before him—but none of those were an excuse for the way he reacted.

_Harry must hate me now._

_It doesn't matter if he doesn't accept my apology. I have to tell him I'm sorry. I've got to try, at least._

Jaw set in determination; Ron took off to find Harry.

* * *

"Shh Harry. Don't cry," Draco comforted Harry, holding him tightly to his chest in a smoldering hug. "Shh… It's going to be alright."

"B-but you h-heard what he s-said. He hates me now," Harry sniveled, wetting Draco's robes. Draco endured it. It wasn't appropriate to complain now when he had a hurt Gryffindor on his lap.

"I am sure he doesn't hate you. This is the Weasel we're talking about," Draco ignored the glare Harry shot at him for using the derogatory term but he couldn't care less at the moment. Weasley hurt his Harry. He didn't deserve any of Draco's respect.

"B-but—" Harry was interrupted by a voice coming from the door.

"Harry? Mate. Are you there?"

Draco lifted his head from Harry's form and narrowed his eyes when he saw Weasley. He bared his teeth and snarled.

Weasley swallowed harshly and continued, "Harry…could I talk to you please?" Weasley's eyes darted to Draco's for a second and added, "Alone?"

Draco drew the line there and tugged Harry closer to him. "No Weasley. I'm not going to leave Harry alone with the likes of you."

"Draco," Harry started, but was immediately cut short.

"Don't 'Draco' me, Harry. I'm _not _going to leave you alone with him. End of discussion," Draco said, no room for argument in his voice.

Harry sighed, unconsciously snuggling closer to Draco. "Okay," Harry conceded. He stared wide-eyed at Weasley. "Would you mind, Ron?"

The Weasel hesitated for a second before nodding. "Alright," he whispered.

Weasley inched towards them and Draco was glad that he and Harry had already put on their clothes. He would be damned if Weasley saw anymore of Harry's delectable bare skin.

Draco glared the whole way as Weasley stumbled through his apology to Harry.

"S-So what do you say, Harry? I'm really, _really _sorry for saying…all those things to you. I don't expect you to forgive me but—I hope we can still be friends."

Weasley stopped then to wait nervously for Harry's answer. Harry pursed his lips and finally replied, "Well Ron…I won't deny that what you said was painful to hear. I'll probably forgive you—in time. But Ron? You didn't just insult me." At that, Harry turned to Draco.

Weasley looked stunned as he followed Harry's eyes as it landed on Draco. "Mate…"

"No Ron. You called Draco a Death Eater and accused him of using an Unforgivable on me. That's unacceptable. You have to apologise to him too."

Weasley looked as if Harry had just asked him to kill his entire extended family. There was a pregnant silence before Draco broke it.

"Whatever. Don't even try Weasley. I don't need your apology. Unlike Harry, I couldn't care less about your opinion." Draco sniffed haughtily.

Harry stared at him with adoring eyes and Draco's cool expression almost faltered. He managed to stifle his first reaction to claim Harry's kissable lips and continued staring at Weasley.

Harry pulled himself away from Draco's side, walked towards the Weasel and patted him on his shoulder. "I forgive you Ron. But you must promise me that you won't undermine my and Draco's relationship ever again. Because—I'm planning for him to be in my life for a long, _long _time. So…"

"I promise I won't do that again. I'll get used to Malfoy."

Harry nodded and brought Weasley in for a brotherly hug.

Draco looked at the scene before him and sighed a little. The Weasel would always be a part of Harry's life, it seemed. Although, without Weasley, Harry would probably be miserable.

_For Harry, I'll deal with Weasley, _Draco thought, picturing Harry's radiant smile in his mind. _It's worth it, in the end._

* * *

**Cliche suggested by lovebites123 and crissy315.**

**If anyone would like to request a particular cliché, feel free to leave it in a review.**


	6. Marriage Law

_Clich_é _Six—Marriage Law_

"You are now officially bonded," the Ministry Official proclaimed as he stared at Harry and Malfoy. "You may kiss."

Harry stared at him with resentment in his eyes. He had resigned himself to his marriage with Malfoy but it seemed his brain had only recently caught up with the idea that he would be marrying _Malfoy;_ that they would have to copulate, that they would have to get intimate, that they would have to raise kids together.

_I don't want to kiss the git. I _don't.

Malfoy looked down at him with an expectant gaze. Harry signed and reluctantly tilted his head upwards so that Malfoy could give him a quick peck on the mouth. However, instead of the brush of lips he had been expecting, Malfoy claimed his lips in a crushing, passionate-filled kiss.

It felt wonderful when Malfoy wrapped his tongue with Harry's own and Harry let out a groan of surprise and pleasure.

The kiss carried on for a few moments and it felt wonderful, Harry just losing himself in the brilliant feeling.

And then Harry realised who was actually ravaging his mouth. He shoved Malfoy away from him, shooting him a glare.

Malfoy just gave him an infernally cool smirk, offering his arm for Harry to take as if Harry were a _girl, _which he reluctantly took. Harry didn't want to cause a commotion in public. He could punch Malfoy later when they arrived back at Malfoy Manor.

Harry sighed as he recalled how this entire mess befell him.

* * *

_Harry took one look at the front page of the Daily Prophet and nearly spat out the sip of Earl Grey tea he had just taken. His eyes bulged from their sockets and his hands gripped the newspaper roughly—causing the paper to ruffle loudly and tear a little at the corners—as his eyes quickly scanned the article._

I can't believe this…

_The headline read: __**Marriage Law Declared! All Single Witches And Wizards Above Twenty To Be Paired Up On Set Date.**_

_Harry groaned. This couldn't be happening. He—the Ministry couldn't just set up random people and expect them to get married. Could they?_

_The Ministry's reasoning had been ridiculous too. _The Wizarding World's population is dwindling_; Harry reread the quote by the current Minister of Magic in his head._And we need our citizens to be cooperative. It's our best solution to repopulate.

_Bloody ridiculous._

_Harry felt the urge to rip the newspaper in two. He wanted someone to love and would actually love him for him. Not someone who was chosen for him by some twisted Ministry procedure. He didn't want to marry a stranger._

_Maybe this is just lies, Harry thought, going into denial. The _Daily Prophet_ isn't always honest._

_Harry sighed in resignation. Who was he kidding? No matter what rubbish the _Daily Prophet_ printed, there was always a ring of truth in it, under all the gossip and lies._

I don't want this. But what can I do?

* * *

_He had complained about all of it to Ron the next day, far away from their Auror office, in a dingy-looking pub. Ron was already married to Hermione so the rule didn't apply to them. Harry would be the only one out of their trio affected. And Harry was kind of jealous; he couldn't help it. He wanted to have the kind of relationship his best friends shared. But it was impossible now._

"_Don't worry to much Harry," Ron comforted. "Who knows? You might get paired with someone you could grow to love."_

_And Ron was forced to eat those words once it was revealed that, of all people, Harry would be marrying _Malfoy.

_Malfoy had seemed as disgusted at the prospect of wedding Harry as Harry was with the prospect of wedding him. However, Malfoy had been surprisingly cordial and didn't insult Harry much. He had even talked with Harry about how they were going to get through the marriage, how they were going to act in public. Though Harry _still _didn't want to marry Malfoy; the idea had become more bearable._

* * *

_But I never expected him to kiss me so—passionately._

Harry felt ready to collapse in exhaustion as they arrived at Malfoy Manor. It was still late evening but after such a long day of turbulent emotions, Harry just wanted to lie back onto a soft bed and _sleep. _The problem was that Harry was in foreign territory and was unsure of where he should go—where was his sleeping quarters anyway? Was he supposed to sleep with Malfoy? Like—_sleep _with him? Since it was their wedding night and everything?

Malfoy seemed to have read his thoughts and the blond placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, snapping Harry back into reality. He said, "Come. I'll show you my room. You'll be sharing the main bedchamber with me since we are spouses."

He must have seen the fear flashing in Harry's eyes as he quickly added, "Just sleep, of course. We don't have to—consummate our marriage tonight. We can wait until you are ready."

Harry nodded gratefully and trailed after Malfoy, looking forward to sleeping, even if it was in the same bedroom with Malfoy.

_This won't be too bad, _Harry thought, yawning a little. _I hope…_

* * *

Draco stared down at the sleeping man, his fingers subconsciously brushing those untidy raven locks tenderly. He's waited so long to have him…

A sigh of contentment escaped Draco's lips as he slowly eased of the bed and towards his study.

_Now that I have you Harry, I won't let you go. Yes, _Draco thought.

This was everything he could ever ask for. He would be kind to Harry, he would be nice to him, and in the end, Harry would fall in love with Draco just as deeply as Draco has fallen in love with him.

Putting down the Malfoy Vault Statement, Draco quickly penned down a letter and passed it to his faithful owl to send to the Ministry.

After that was done, he returned to bed, and snuggled up next to Harry, breathing the scent of his hair.

_It was worth it, _was Draco's final thought as he slipped into slumber.

On his study table, a Gringotts letter informing him about the recent transference of five percent of the Malfoy fortune to the Ministry sat, never to be seen by prying eyes.

* * *

**Cliche suggested by IxI Queen of Curls IxI **

**If anyone would like to request a particular cliché, feel free to leave it in a review.**


	7. Accidental Pregnancy

**Author's Note: **This is quite different from some of the other clichés since it is (sort of) an epistolary fic. Why? Because I liked this cliché idea—and it was asked for multiple times—but my idea was a little too long. Which negated the purpose of this story as a whole, since the point was for this to be a series of short one-shots. Stress the word "_short"_. So yeah. I hope it's still enjoyable.

**Warning(s): **Mpreg (if it wasn't obvious enough), Also Harry is the pregnant one (if you care about that—which I do so heads up, okay?)

* * *

_Cliché Seven—Accidental Pregnancy_

_To: Terrance Watson, Healer_

_St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries_

Hello Healer Watson,

It's been a long time since I've last made an appointment. However, recently, I have started feeling rather unwell. I've been feeling nauseous, with my stomach area suffering random pains throughout the day and though usually I would wait for it to cure, it hasn't. It has been going on for a month now and is affecting my work. So, I would like to make an appointment with you, preferably as soon as possible.

Thank you.

_Harry Potter_

* * *

_To: Harry Potter, Auror_

_Auror Department, Ministry of Magic_

Dear Mr Potter,

I have read your letter and I must say your condition is quite alarming. You have been feeling ill for a whole month? It's rather strange; a Wizard's magic should usually stop any Muggle sickness from going on for such a long period of time.

Either way, kindly come to Room 210 on the Second Floor on the 21st of November at 3 pm, if you are available. If not, please feel free to contact me again.

_Terrance Watson_

* * *

_To: Terrance Watson, Healer_

_St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries_

I'll be there at the allotted timing. Thank you.

_Harry Potter_

* * *

_To: Ron Weasley-Granger and Hermione Weasley-Granger_

Hey Ron, Hermione,

Could you please meet me in the Ministry's cafeteria later this afternoon? I have something important to tell you.

Hermione, you were right. There is something wrong with me.

_Harry_

* * *

_Baby Journal, Month One_

Hello baby. I'm sorry but I can only call you that for now because I'm not exactly sure what I should name you—or whether you are a male or a female as of yet. So, Hermione recommended me writing in a 'Baby Journal' to chart your growth. She said it helped her a great deal with her overwhelming thoughts when she was having Rose. Healer Watson agreed with her so here I am now.

How should I start really? I guess I should start with how shocked I am with your existence. Not to say that I regret it because I most definitely don't. I just wonder how you would feel with a male 'mother'. Because that news sure surprised the pants off of me.

I never knew Wizards could get pregnant. You see, I lived in the Muggle World prior to learning about the Wizarding World and no one ever bothered to explain to me that Wizards could get freaking pregnant. That is, until I found out and fainted when Healer Watson told me that pregnancy was the reason for my nausea and fatigue.

Ah! The more you learn, right?

And the month is labeled wrongly. Technically, this is the second month but since I just found out, it would be rather strange to start the labeling from Month Two, am I right?

The only thing I regret about this situation is _how_ you came about. Because…you won't have another father. Only me. And it's my fault, really. For giving in to drunken lust and then fleeing in the morning. I always told myself that when I had a child, I would make sure to give it a complete and loving family. I don't think I can fulfill the former anymore. But I definitely will try my best to fulfill the latter.

Rest well my baby.

_With love,_

_Your 'Mom' (or 'Dad'…you can decide what to call me when you come out)_

* * *

_To: Harry Potter_

Harry, I know I've mentioned this a dozen times before and that you hadn't bothered listening to me those times and would probably not do so now but Harry—

You should tell the other father. You really should.

And don't deny that you know who the father is. I _know _you do. You always panic once he is mentioned, whoever he is.

None of us will judge you, Harry. Ron, the entire Weasley family, all your friends, and I will always be there to support you.

We are worried about you too. You just seem so sad these days. Is it because of…

Anyway, I really hope you would listen to me this time. Imagine; if you don't tell, the other father would be missing out on raising his own child. Would you want that for yourself, if the situation were somehow switched?

_Take care,_

_Hermione_

* * *

_To: Hermione Weasley-Granger_

Hermione, I've already told you why I can't tell the other father. It was a drunken mistake. That's all. And the other father's a prick anyway. He wouldn't care.

Please stop trying to convince me.

And I'm _not_ sad. Just…tired.

_Harry_

* * *

_Baby Journal, Month Five_

Hello baby. Or should I say, my little girl? Yes, I've finally got your gender! And apparently, in the Wizarding World they don't use ultrasound (I didn't now why I was surprised, really) but use a spell—that is very similar to how ultrasound actually, or at least that is what Hermione told me.

Speaking about Hermione…she's been bugging me once again to tell your other father. And I just can't. I, myself, don't fully believe the excuses I give to her.

I'm not lying when I say he's a major prick. He was absolutely nasty when we attended school together. Although, he has changed since then, I must admit. He's nicer. And more handsome. And—

Anyway, I think that is why I'm afraid to tell. What if he doesn't even care? Or what if he wants to take you away from me? Because there is no chance in the world that he would actually want to raise you with me. He hates me.

So I really hope you will forgive for making this decision. You don't think I'm wrong, right? I'm doing the right thing, right?

I really hope so.

_With love,_

_Your loving parent_

* * *

_Baby Journal, Month Six_

Hi. I saw your dad today when I went to St. Mungo's. Did I ever mention to you that he's a Healer? I had gotten lucky 'til now.

It's no longer a secret to the Wizarding World that I'm pregnant. After all, it is rather difficult to keep a baby bump hidden. However, the moment he saw me, he had the strangest expression on his face. Then he glared at me and turned away.

And I felt so guilty.

I don't know why. He acted like a prick. And we haven't spoken since that Incident.

Still…I've been considering telling him about you.

Because the guilt is eating away at me. I also think that maybe I won't be enough for you. You deserve both of your parents. And I think it is about time I started acting like the Gryffindor I am.

It's about time I told Draco Malfoy about his impending parenthood, don't you think?

_With love,_

_Your loving parent (and hopefully, parents)_

* * *

_To: Draco Malfoy_

Hello Malfoy,

I have something important to tell you. This is not a joke. Please meet me at Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, at noon today.

I repeat—this is not a joke.

_Harry Potter_

* * *

_To: Harry Potter_

Seriously Potter? I am pretty sure we have nothing to say to each other. However, I shall humour you. I'll meet you at the allotted place and time.

By the way, do you know that writing 'this is not a joke' twice does not make this seem any less suspicious. You're fortunate that I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt.

_Draco Malfoy_

* * *

_To: Harry Potter_

Potter,

…Harry. I am sorry for running away. Sincerely sorry. I apologise if I had given you the wrong impression that I am not interested in being in the child's life. I do.

Please forgive me and allow me to do my part as a parent. Include me in her life.

_Draco Malfoy_

* * *

_To: Draco Malfoy_

I forgive you Malfoy. Would you like to join me to go for the next appointment?

_Harry Potter_

* * *

_To: Harry Potter_

I would enjoy doing that. Thank you.

_Draco Malfoy_

* * *

_Lily's First Year—Baby Steps_

Hello Lily (I am quite sorry for your rather unoriginal name, Harry insisted upon it, though I still believe Aurora or Lyra would have been more suiting), it's your father, Draco, here.

I can't believe I can finally hold you in my arms. You are really my lovely little girl. I'm glad Harry told me about you, that we were having a child together.

I'm glad you are my child and no one else's. Though I still wish Harry had told me earlier so I could have been with you the whole way.

And you really are a little miracle! You managed to bring Harry and I together. A Gryffindor and a Slytherin. Two former rivals. You got us to fall in love. And I'm forever grateful.

I can't wait to watch you grow, Lily.

_With love,_

_Your Father_

* * *

**Additional Author Notes: **The Baby Journals aren't really for the child to read in the future but as a way for Harry to express his feelings by 'communicating' with his child.

**Cliché suggested by EmeraldGrey123, lovebites123 and lalaisnotmyname (guest).**


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